The Village..

“He calmly looked at the trees and the flowers around him, and took a deep sigh. The village was still flashing in the back of his mind, drifting further and further away, but then coming back again with images of the square, the river, the little ducks, and the streets. And a wave of different emotions for the little everyday habits, like closing the door to the house, turning a corner on the street, seeing a square opening up before him, or the little cup of tea in the evenings. It was so close to him at times, so vivid and alive, so full of joy and light and inspiration for him. It was a time of great change, and of peace and stability, and of new forms of joy and happiness entering into his life, giving new perspectives on life and people, and on everything before and after those years. It was like a beaming little oasis of beauty in his mind, and a permanent source of new energy and sweet memories. It had changed him, and his future, forever.”

Book opening..

 

PROLOGUE

As he sat down in the peaceful park his mind started to drift as usual. Swaths of hidden memories and past joys bubbled up from the deep as he watched the ducks glide along the clear calm surface of the lake. Some thoughts were clear and vivid, others more muddled and fragmented, some with strong emotions still, while yet again others strangely remote and neutral after the passing of time and changes in life rendering them distant and beautiful but other like. Ever since he was a little child he had loved the peace of a small lake in the park.

And the day had just begun.

 

A cup..

“Then at times, the wide open horizons unfolded in life once again. A sudden change, a little trip, a change of scenery, some mountains or lakes or open fields of beautiful scenery, some peaceful animals and rolling hills and fresh air.

It could be blended into the usual habits and rituals of daily life, peaceful hours of reading or staying in touch with old friends, easy chats or deep interesting talks with new people, a quiet walk in modest nature, or sipping the coffee carefully from a new cup in a new place, or the same one for a while, a cup you had gotten a bit familiar with over some days, or some months, or perhaps even one with strong emotions connected to it, from the person who gave it to you, the time you bought it, or some specific talks or moments which were still quietly and firmly a part of the cup – and subtly remembered or felt at times clearly, but mostly unconsciosly but slightly influencing the mood or the tenor of the feelings, silently infusing some tiny blobs of emotions, briefly felt but sometimes lingering for hours, adding some little color or aspect to the perception of the world, to how you see and feel the room around you, or how you experience the people and streets, the sounds, and your own thoughts.”